Invisible Touch
by Emily-chan
Summary: Syaoran's family is visiting from Hong Kong. Syaoran and Eriol manage to get it on anyway. Censored version of an EriolxSyaoran lemon.


A/N: Please do not read this fic. Thanks to fanfiction.net's idiotic new policy, this story has been censored. If you are at least 18 years old, please go to the following address and read the uncensored version there. If you're not 18 yet, I'm supposed to tell you to be satisfied with this crappy version. Sorry.  
  
http://www.satinflame.net/resuko/exs/fics/invisible.html  
  
DISCLAIMER: CardCaptor Sakura and all related characters are property of CLAMP, Kodansha, etc. But the puppets are MINE! Mine, I say! Bwahahahahaha! *ahem* Anyway, I don't make any money off of this. I only do what my ecchi muse tells me to.  
P.S. This is not a songfic. But in case you care, Invisible Touch was written by Genesis.  
  
WARNINGS:  
Rating: R (was NC-17)  
Gay boys. Censored sex. Swearing. Syaoran's sisters. If any of these offend you, then leave.  
  


* * * * *  


  


Invisible Touch  
~a CCS fanfic by Emily-chan~  


  
Eriol! Eriol!   
  
Syaoran ran to catch up with the dark-haired boy, despite the fact that every footstep brought him closer to their apartment building, the last place on Earth he wanted to be headed. he panted as he finally fell in step with his classmate.  
  
Eriol continued to ignore him. Syaoran rolled his eyes.  
  
  
  
  
  
Syaoran sighed. Aren't you a little old for this sort of thing? he asked.  
  
That's how you're going to introduce me to your mother, isn't it? Only an experienced ear would have been able to detect the sharp edge of bitterness in Eriol's voice. Not my boyfriend', not my lover', not the guy who's been sharing my bed', just Hiiragizawa Eriol-kun'.  
  
Syaoran swore through clenched teeth. Eriol, look at me.  
  
Eriol didn't respond.  
  
Syaoran ran a few feet ahead and turned around so that he was walking backwards, facing Eriol. Dammit, look at me! he demanded. You're not the one who has to deal with this, you know!  
  
Acknowledgment finally flashed across Eriol's eyes, a flicker of sadness that unsuited his normally smiling face. Syaoran instantly felt guilty.  
  
Come on, Eriol, he pleaded. We've been over this. I just think it would be better for her to get to know you before we tell her about us. And since I haven't seen her myself in almost three years, I'd like to know exactly why she's here _before_ I get disowned. Geez, she's hard enough to deal with as it is, not to mention--  
  
  
  
Syaoran cringed as a chorus of high-pitched voices pierced the chilly afternoon air. He turned to see four redheaded young women dangling over his balcony railing, all waving frantically and squealing with delight.   
_  
Damn. _They had already covered the distance from the high school to the apartment building where they both lived, and now it was too late for Syaoran to bargain for more time alone with Eriol. _If he had waited for me after school, we could have had this argument there._  
  
Nei hou! the women cried, interrupting his thoughts. Is that Hiiragizawa-sinsaang?  
  
Syaoran replied, looking very ill.  
  
Nei hou, Eriol called with a wave. His frown was replaced by a smile so flawless that even Syaoran couldn't tell whether or not he was faking. More shrieks could be heard from the balcony.  
  
Syaoran gritted his teeth and trudged into the building. _Kami-sama, kill me now,_ he begged as Eriol followed him into the waiting elevator. A week with his mother would have been bad enough; he didn't know why his sisters had to come along, too. _Yes, I do,_ he amended. He stole a glance at Eriol, who had dropped the smile he had put on for the women's sakes. _Blood in the water._ The Li clan had spent centuries obsessed with Clow Reed, and Syaoran knew that his sisters were not going to pass up the chance to try to claim Clow's successor for themselves. He groaned inwardly at the thought of spending the next week watching Fuutie, Shiefa, Fanren, and Feimei shamelessly fling themselves at the young man who was supposed to be his. But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that Eriol was mad at him but refused to talk about it, refused to look at him, refused to do _anything_ except pretend that they were two classmates who barely knew each other!  
  
Eriol, please.... Syaoran tried to put his hand on the taller boy's shoulder, but Eriol shrugged it off.  
  
Why should I act like your boyfriend if you won't treat me like your boyfriend? he asked coldly.  
  
Syaoran felt his anger rising again. Look, I understand that this isn't fair for you, he hissed, but you could at least _try_ to see things from my point of view--  
  
He was interrupted as the elevator doors rolled open and his sisters rushed in, screaming with delight. Syaoran suddenly found himself shoved out into the hallway as the four young women jockeyed for the best position to fawn over Eriol.  
  
He's so cute!  
  
And tall!  
  
And handsome!  
  
Syaoran watched in disgust as the elevator doors closed, carrying his ecstatically oblivious sisters to Eriol's top-floor apartment. Geez. They could at least _try_ to not be obvious, he muttered.  
  
Exactly what I was thinking, said a voice behind him.  
  
Syaoran nearly leapt out of his skin as he turned to face the speaker. Ha-- Hahaue!  
  
Li Yelan stood in the doorway of her son's apartment, looking as elegant and dignified as ever, even though she was wearing a simple, Chinese-style silk dress instead of her usual ceremonial robes. You rely too much on your power to sense other people, she stated. Anyone with the ability to hide their aura can sneak up on you too easily. You were trained better than that. If I had been an enemy, you would be dead now. You need to exercise your physical as well as magical defenses. The Head of the Li clan paused as she eyed her son carefully. Will you join me for tea?  
  
Syaoran's heartbeat gradually slowed down to something nearer its normal rate. A... hai, he replied. That was probably the warmest welcome he had ever received from his mother. He followed her into the living room. I take it the manager let you in without any trouble? he asked.  
  
His mother nodded the affirmative as she poured the tea. Obvious answers did not require a verbal response. Syaoran knew that it was a stupid question, but he couldn't stand the long silences that always preceded one of his mother's investigations. He waited nervously, sipping at his tea.  
  
How have you been? his mother finally asked.  
  
Syaoran considered the question carefully. It seemed harmless enough. he answered tentatively.  
  
Silence.  
  
I notice your grades have improved this past year. Particularly in English.  
  
Syaoran smirked into his teacup. His mother was being obvious. _Exactly how well do you know this Hiiragizawa Eriol?_ was what she really meant.  
  
I have been studying. _None of your business._  
  
More silence.  
  
How is Kinomoto-siuje?  
  
Syaoran choked on his tea. I-- wha-- why-- he sputtered.  
  
Mercifully, the front door flew open and Syaoran's sisters bounded in, swooning and chattering happily.  
  
He's so cool!  
  
And smart!  
  
And he speaks Chinese beautifully!  
  
And he's coming over for dinner! There was much squealing after the last statement.  
  
Syaoran coughed, not yet recovered from having choked on the tea.  
  
We invited Eriol-sinsaang over for dinner!  
  
Syaoran stammered again, turning a strange shade of red. But his sisters were already in the kitchen, arguing over who would have the privilege of making the main dish. Syaoran sank back into the couch with a heavy sigh. _Aitsu... he lets _them_ call him Eriol and sticks _me_ with the Hiiragizawa-kun crap._  
  
Is something wrong?   
  
Syaoran's eyes flew open. _Shit!_  
  
Do you dislike Hiiragizawa-sinsaang? his mother asked.  
  
N-no! I-- I mean... I don't--  
  
Then your feelings have changed.  
  
Syaoran began to feel like he was rapidly losing what small semblance of control he had over the situation.  
  
As I recall, you used to dislike him quite a bit, his mother pointed out. That was why you originally decided to stay in Tomoeda after all the Cards were sealed, wasn't it?  
  
  
  
And I got the impression that when he returned from England last spring, you still didn't like him very much.  
  
  
  
Of course, when you first met Kinomoto-siuje, you didn't like her, either.  
  
Syaoran flushed deep red. What's that supposed to mean?!  
  
Only that you don't make friends easily, his mother responded, giving him a strange look. What did you think it meant?  
  
Um, n-nothing, I.... Syaoran began to feel very much like a wild animal caught in a trap. He frantically wondered if he would be able to escape by chewing his own arm off. I just--  
  
Fanren called from the kitchen. Where do you keep the spices?  
  
Syaoran didn't think he had ever been so grateful for his sisters as he was at that moment. He hastily excused himself and fled into the kitchen.  
  
A small smile crossed the Head of the Li clan's lips. It appeared that things were not completely hopeless for seeing Clow's power returned to the Li family, after all.  
  


~*~  


  
Syaoran splashed cold water on his face, hoping it would help get rid of the massive headache he had had all evening. Dinner had been the most miserable experience of his life; akin, he thought, to peeling his skin off and rolling around in a large vat of salt. Except in that situation, he probably would have been allowed to scream.   
  
Syaoran knew that, as slow as Eriol was to anger, he was even slower to forgive. When he had first arrived for dinner, Syaoran was afraid that the British boy would deliberately do or say something to hurt him, or possibly even tell his family about their relationship out of spite. But reality turned out to be even worse than Syaoran's fears. Eriol acted perfectly normal. Normal, that is, for a normal person, but decidedly _not_ normal for Eriol. There were no sly glances at Syaoran, no brushes under the table, and no offhand comments that could be taken to imply that the two were closer than they were letting on. Instead, Eriol had decided to play the role of a mere acquaintance, a classmate who just happened to live in the same apartment building, and nothing more. And he was either an extremely talented actor, or.... Syaoran didn't want to think about the alternative. He stuck his head under the faucet of cold water, as if he could wash away the worries that were disturbing him.  
  
God, it's hot in here, he muttered as he turned off the faucet and reached for a towel. His sisters, not used to February in Japan, had insisted on turning up the heat in the apartment so high that even Syaoran found it uncomfortable. He leaned his forehead against the mirror with a sigh. The thought of the unfinished homework that was still waiting for him only worsened the pounding in his skull. He closed his eyes and allowed weariness to overtake him.  
  
Xiao-Lang, don't spend all night in there, one of his sisters called from the living room.  
  
Syaoran replied. He finished toweling off his hair and stepped out of the bathroom. His sisters were in the living room, chatting quietly as they spread out their futons. Syaoran guessed that their more subdued behavior meant that his mother had already retired to the guest bedroom. He couldn't help but overhear their conversation as he passed by them on the way to his own room.  
  
I should get him; I'm the oldest, Fuutie was saying.  
  
Feimei countered, But I'm closest to him in age.  
  
But didn't Mochan say he's probably much older than he looks? asked Shiefa.  
  
Ha! See? I get him!  
  
That's not what I meant!  
  
Well, I think that he likes _me_ the best, Fanren declared. Don't you think so, Xiao-Lang?  
  
Syaoran froze in his tracks. His sisters suddenly swarmed around him, as if they had only that moment remembered that he was supposed to be the reason they had come to Japan. Tell us! they pleaded. You're friends with Eriol-sinsaang; which one of us do you think is best for him?  
  
Syaoran stared at his sisters, unable to respond. He might as well have been asked to choose his favorite method of slow, painful death. he managed. I don't... really....  
  
Feimei leaned closer and put her hand to Syaoran's forehead. Are you feeling all right? she asked. No offense, sai lo, but you look like crap.  
  
I might be coming down with something, Syaoran hedged, backing towards the door to his room. I think I'll just go to bed.  
  
His sisters protested with moans of disappointment. Promise you'll tell us everything you know about him tomorrow, okay?  
  
Syaoran nodded wearily. Yeah, tomorrow, he answered noncommittally. Jo tau.  
  
Jo tau!  
  
Feel better!  
  
Don't forget! Tomorrow!  
  
Syaoran closed the door behind him with a sigh. If it hadn't felt like his whole world was crumbling, he might have found the situation funny. _Bed sounds good,_ he thought. _Forget about homework, forget about Eriol; just go to sleep and maybe when I wake up, this whole day will have never happened.  
_  
Without bothering to turn on the light, Syaoran stripped down to his underwear and made his way over to the bed. He pulled back the comforter, and flopped down on top of the cool sheets, tired, frustrated, and utterly miserable. He didn't understand why Eriol was being so stubborn. The mage didn't mind keeping their relationship secret form the students at school; in fact, he seemed to enjoy seeing how far he could push things and still keep people from realizing that they were a couple. So why was it so important to him that they tell Syaoran's mother? Did Eriol really think that Syaoran could just go up to her and say, Hi, Mom, it's good to see you, and by the way, I'm bisexual and I've been sleeping with the reincarnation of our ancestor, and she would welcome them with open arms?  
  
Syaoran sighed as he stared up at the ceiling. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that he had acquired during dinner was beginning to gnaw at him again. It wasn't as if he and Eriol had never fought before; in fact, they fought almost every single day. But he was usually the one who got angry, and Eriol would just smile that damnably maddening smile of his until Syaoran couldn't stand not being in the other boy's arms for another minute. It was very rare for Eriol to get upset or angry. Syaoran could probably count the number of times it had happened on one hand. It meant that things were serious.  
_  
Why should I act like your boyfriend if you won't treat me like your boyfriend?_ Eriol's voice echoed in Syaoran's head. The Chinese boy shivered despite the heat. Eriol wasn't really considering dissolving their relationship because of this -- was he? He had certainly done a good job during dinner of acting like there was nothing going on between them. Syaoran had thought that Eriol was doing it just to make him angry, but now he wasn't so sure. He suddenly felt very lonely, as if Eriol were on the other side of the world instead of twenty feet above him. Syaoran sat up and brushed at the tears that stung his eyes. The bed was too big, and he didn't want to sleep alone tonight.  
  
He leaned over the side of the bed and rummaged underneath it. It didn't take long before his fingers found what they were looking for. He hefted himself back up on the bed and leaned against the pillows, studying his prize carefully. A small, handmade hand puppet with black hair and smiling lavender-blue eyes, wearing glasses and black magician's robes. I haven't seen you in a long time, Syaoran said softly, running a calloused fingertip across the puppet's cheek. I wonder where your mate is.   
  
The puppet had been a gift from Eriol, his first gift in fact; a sign that the mage wanted them to be equals. Syaoran was too embarrassed to admit how much it meant to him, or that he had slept with the puppet every night from the day he had gotten it until the wonderful night that it had been replaced by the real thing. He smiled fondly at the memory, and then realized that this was the first time he and Eriol would be sleeping apart since they had begun sharing a bed. He wondered if Eriol was thinking the same thing upstairs with the brown-haired puppet in the green shikifuku. He doubted it. Eriol just didn't seem to feel the same need for Syaoran that Syaoran did for him. He had proven that much at dinner.  
  
Syaoran blinked back another wave of tears, feeling lonelier than ever. He pressed his lips to the puppet's cheek. God, I miss you, he whispered against the soft fabric.  
  
I miss you, too.  
  
Syaoran felt more than heard the whisper in his ear. He bolted upright. What th-- His voice was silenced as a pair of invisible lips claimed his own and pressed him back down to the bed. _Eriol._ Syaoran could feel his lover's familiar smile against his lips. Eriol only smiled like that when he was up to something. _I knew it! I KNEW it! I knew he was plotting something all along with that puppet! _Syaoran tried to sit up, but Eriol's invisible weight straddled his chest, pinning him to the bed. _That bastard! He promised.... _He was torn between being incredibly angry and incredibly turned on. Then Eriol's tongue slid inside his mouth, and Syaoran's body made the decision for him.  
  
Syaoran let out a soft whimper as he melted into the kiss. He closed his eyes and it was exactly like Eriol was actually there with him, running his warm, silky tongue over his teeth, tickling the sensitive roof of his mouth, threading his fingers through his still damp hair. Syaoran reached up to pull his lover closer, but ended up grasping at empty air. He growled in frustration, prompting a chuckle from the invisible Eriol. _Don't laugh at me, old man, _Syaoran thought as he thrust his tongue into Eriol's mouth. Eriol welcomed the intrusion, sucking on the sweet pink flesh and licking the delicate underside. Syaoran arched needily into the kiss.  
  
Eriol's assault ended as abruptly as it began, and with less warning. Syaoran suddenly found himself sitting upright, cold from the lack of Eriol's body heat, heart pounding against his rib cage, and arousal achingly hard. What the hell was that? he panted as he leaned back on his elbows. He glared at the ceiling. _Damn you, Eriol, if you think you can just leave me like this....  
_  
Yes or no?  
_  
Huh?_  
  
A tender hand caressed Syaoran's cheek. I promised you, Xiao-Lang, Eriol murmured into his ear, licking a warm, wet trail around the rim. You're not my toy. I won't make you do anything you don't want to do. So, yes, or no? A warm rush of emotion flooded Syaoran's body. Eriol hadn't forgotten his promise! Yes or no? God, YES!!   
  
Syaoran understood enough of Eriol's twisted mind to figure out how the puppets worked. Anything one of them did to their puppet, the other one would feel. He grabbed the Eriol puppet and kissed it fiercely. Eriol's lips returned the kiss, more passionate and demanding than before. Syaoran happily let himself be pushed back down onto the bed as the Eriol puppet fell forgotten from his grasp. He could feel the real Eriol on top of him, his lover's hardness grinding against his own. Eriol's lips moved from Syaoran's mouth, along the line of his jaw, to that spot just below his ear where he knew he would get a reaction. Syaoran hissed in pleasure, grasping wildly for some part of Eriol to hold on to, but coming up with only nothingness. he panted softly, not knowing whether the mage would be able to hear him or not, I... I need to touch you....  
  
Eriol took Syaoran's hands into his own. The searing heat between their palms radiated throughout the Chinese boy's body. Syaoran watched in wonder as Eriol guided his hand and empty space took on the tactile form of the mage's smooth chest. His fingers were led over Eriol's hardened nipples, across the soft skin of his abdomen, and eventually to his hot, firm   
  


* * * * *  
**[CENSORED]**  
  
I'm sorry, but this story has been censored by the fanfiction.net gestapo. If you would like to read this story in its entirety, and you are at least 18 years of age, please visit one of the following links:  
  
http://www.satinflame.net/resuko/exs/fics/invisible.html  
http://www.mediaminer.org/fanfic/view_ch.php?id=18718  
http://www.fandomination.net/?mode=fanfic&FanficID=2172  
http://clampfix.fanworks.net/smut/invisible.txt  
  
Thank you. We now return you to our regularly scheduled fanfiction, already in progress.  
  
**[CENSORED]  
*** * * * *  


  
When Syaoran's mind finally cleared, he found himself lying in bed, covered in his own release, the faint taste of blood in his mouth. He was alone, but Eriol was on top of him, kissing him passionately. Syaoran returned the kiss. Ngoh ngoi nei, Eriol, he murmured against his lover's lips.  
  
I noticed, Eriol replied with a soft chuckle. I love you, too, Xiao-chan. He ran a gentle thumb over Syaoran's cheek. You know that, right? No matter what happens, no matter what I may do or say, I'll always love you.  
  
Syaoran nodded sleepily as he continued to drink from Eriol's lips. he whispered.  
  
  
  
I... I'll always love you, too. Forever.  
  
Eriol repeated.  
  
The last thing Syaoran felt before drifting into slumber was Eriol's strong, comforting arms encircling him. He fell asleep wrapped in a warm, invisible embrace.  
  


~*~  


  
Oi, Li. Li! Wake up!  
  
Syaoran groggily forced his eyelids to open and blinked in the morning light. He found himself staring into two large turquoise eyes.   
  
Suppi, what are you doing here? he asked, more than slightly annoyed at finding the Sun Guardian in his bedroom, uninvited.  
  
Spinel turned up his nose. Ch'. It's not exactly a picnic for me, either. He gestured with his tail.  
  
Syaoran looked down and realized that he was completely naked, and the thin sheet that was partially stuck to his body did little to hide that fact. He hastily pulled the sheet around himself and glared back up at Spinel, face beet red. So what are you doing here? He repeated slowly, with a dangerous edge to his voice.  
  
Eriol was wondering if you had forgotten to turn on your alarm clock again, so he asked me to come down and see if you were up yet.  
  
Syaoran rolled over to look at the clock.   
  
He leapt out of bed, sending Spinel flying back towards the balcony doors. His skin smarted where the sticky sheets had been unceremoniously peeled away. _Oh, God, the sheets...._ Shit shit shit shit shit shit-- In one motion, he yanked the sheets from the bed. He balled them up and shoved them to the bottom of his clothes hamper. At least the comforter was still clean. He hurriedly pulled it up over the bare mattress and prayed that his mother wasn't going to do any serious snooping that day. He then grabbed his school clothes, threw on a robe, and raced into the bathroom.  
  
Six minutes later, Syaoran ran into the kitchen, tie hanging loosely around his neck, and still trying to get his other arm through the sleeve of his blazer.  
  
Do you always run this late? his mother asked from behind the morning paper. It's no wonder you're losing your touch if you don't practice your kata every morning.  
  
I forgot to set the alarm! Syaoran protested around the muffin he held in his mouth as he tried to finish putting his blazer on while putting his coat on at the same time.  
  
I see. Well, at least your sisters saw fit to keep your classmate company while he waited for you.   
  
Eri-- uh, Hiiragizawa's here? Syaoran poked open the swinging door and peered into the living room. Eriol was chatting with the four young women, who were practically draped over him. He caught Syaoran's eye, and gave him a grin that was so... _Eriol_ that it was all the Chinese boy could do to suppress the urge to run into the other room and throw himself into his lover's arms. Syaoran felt a telltale blush creep into his cheeks, and he quickly closed the door.   
  
Tonight, if she can make it; if not, as soon as possible, his mother was saying.  
  
  
  
I asked you to invite Kinomoto-siuje over for dinner tonight, Yelan repeated.  
  
Sakura? Why?  
  
Because I would like to see her again. She turned the page of the newspaper. Is that a problem for you?  
  
N-no! I mean--  
  
Oi, Xiao-Lang! Eriol called from the living room. Iku zo! We're going to be late!  
  
Syaoran froze. The entire morning had seemed to go by in fast forward, but now he felt like he was stuck in slow motion. The blood drained from his face as his mother looked at him over the top of her newspaper, eyebrow raised questioningly.  
  
Uh, well, h-he's from England, so he's used to calling people by their given names, Syaoran stammered. His mother did not look entirely convinced.  
  
I'm not going to hold the elevator forever!  
  
Syaoran fled from the kitchen and his mother's stare, past his sisters, who were still wishing Eriol a good day at school, and into the waiting elevator.  
  
Eriol greeted with a soft smile.  
  
As soon as the elevator doors closed, Syaoran flung himself at Eriol, pinning the British boy to the wall and ravishing his mouth with a passionate kiss. Eriol accepted the kiss fully, grabbing each end of Syaoran's still untied necktie and pulling the Chinese boy even closer. Neither one of them noticed that the elevator had stopped on the next floor until the doors opened and they heard a loud, startled,   
  
Syaoran backed away as far as he could, which was not very far, considering Eriol was still holding both ends of his tie. he stammered, flushing a deep crimson. Eriol merely stood there, grinning like a Cheshire cat.  
  
Don't you think it's a little early in the morning, boys? the sandy-haired, middle-aged woman asked.  
  
Eriol replied, pulling a reluctant Syaoran into something between a hug and a headlock, Xiao-chan's family just arrived for the week yesterday, and they're staying in his apartment, so....  
  
Sou ka. Well. The woman huffed, pretending to sound put-out, but then smiled. I guess I'd better take the stairs for the next week, ne? She winked at the young lovers as she sent the elevator down. Have a nice day, boys!  
  
Eriol turned to Syaoran with a leer. Now, where were we?  
  
Syaoran laughed as he pushed Eriol away. You are such a pervert, he said, beginning to tie his necktie.  
  
Eriol protested. As I recall, you're the one who jumped me!  
  
Syaoran shot Eriol a dirty look. That is definitely _not_ how it happened.  
  
Oh, you mean _that_. Eriol smiled thoughtfully. Yeah, I guess I am, he admitted cheerfully, taking Syaoran's tie and knotting it for him.  
  
It was then that Syaoran noticed Eriol's hand. he gasped. The mage's left hand was purple and swollen, with a nasty red gash where Syaoran had bitten it. Oh, Eriol, I... I'm so sorry. I didn't know I was hurting you--  
  
Eriol took Syaoran's chin in his good hand and lifted it so he could look straight into the boy's amber eyes. It's okay, Xiao-love, he assured. I don't mind, really.  
  
  
  
Eriol nodded.  
  
Is there anything I can do to make it up to you? Syaoran asked.  
  
Eriol leaned down so that their noses were almost touching. Why don't you kiss it and make it better? he suggested in a low, husky voice.  
  
Syaoran smiled and gently brought the injured hand up to his lips, kissing it tenderly. How was that?  
  
Eriol wrapped his arms around the Chinese boy. Hmmm. You know, I'm pretty sure you bit my tongue last night, too....  
  
Syaoran smacked him. You _are_ a pervert!  
  
Eriol feigned shock. Are you saying you don't believe me?  
  
Syaoran leaned back in Eriol's arms and regarded him. Maybe I should perform first aid, just in case....  
  
~owari (for now)~  
  


* * * * *  


  
Glossary:   
nei hou: all-purpose Cantonese greeting  
-sinsaang: Mr. (Cantonese)  
Hahaue: Mother (don't know the Cantonese for this particular word, so I used the Japanese)  
hai: yes  
-siuje: Miss (Cantonese)  
aitsu: that damn person, or in a milder sense, that guy  
Mochan: Mother (Cantonese)  
sai lo: little brother (Cantonese)  
jo tau: good night (Cantonese)  
shikifuku: ceremonial clothing  
ngoh ngoi nei: I love you (Cantonese)  
oi: hey  
iku zo: let's go  
ohayou: good morning  
sumimasen: I'm sorry; excuse me  
sou ka: is that so  
  
I would like to thank everyone who reviewed this fic the first time. Your kind and wonderful words touched my heart. Unfortunately, I forgot to copy and save the reviews before ff.net deleted them, so I have lost the names and e-mail addresses of those who requested that I update them when I get more of my Eriol/Syaoran arc written. (It WILL happen... someday!) If you'd like to be updated, please just drop me an e-mail and let me know. Thanks,  
~Emily-chan  
emily_chan12@hotmail.com  
5/4/02  
(censored version 10/18/02)  



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